Soldier & The Dragon
by Miss Sas
Summary: After the apocalypse and the fall of the age of man; The Dragon has risen as the High King of Britain. One Soldier fights to prove that tyrants can be overthrown, that soldiers can slay dragons, and that love can overcome hate.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_2025_

* * *

The place was dark; the disorienting type of darkness where you can feel neither the breadth nor depth of the space you're in. The torches had long gone out and only spicy breath of smoke, the human scent of sex and sound of her breath and his.

"You don't have to do this." She whispered, her lips fluttering against his hairless cheek.

His eyes stared at the vaulted ceiling, giving no indication that he was listening, or that he cared.

"It doesn't have to be this way." She sat up wrapping her slender pale arms around her own nude body as if she could offer herself some small measure of comfort in these comfortless times.

He moved suddenly, fabric rippling around him and his cool hand spanned across her ripening belly. "It will be for the sake of this child that I do this." He said.

Her hand slid over his and gently she moved him away unable to bear his touch, unable to bear the thought of their child born into the cruelty of these times. Would her daughter, for surely it was a girl, ever know the joy of life, and love and freedom? She knew though, with absolute certainty that she would do anything for her child. Anything.

Her eyes flicked to his face, and she wondered at the thoughts that slid behind the darkness of his gaze. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes the shade of crushed violets gleamed eerily in the dark. "I want you to promise me something."

His smile was cold and brief. "What, beloved?"

"Whatever may happen don't hurt our baby." She whispered.

His lips parted and then closed and a breath hitched in her throat.

"I can't make that promise."

There was light in his eyes that was generated by no torch nor lamp in the room, it was an eldritch light that spoke of his otherness, it spoke of his power. The light cast shadows on her face, the subtle lines of age at her eyes, the corners of her lips but despite this she was still beautiful.

"I love you." She said her voice breaking on her tears.

He stood beside her. "Of course you do." He whispered and ran his fingers through her white blond hair and smiled whilst she wept.

* * *

Captive in the dank, dark cellar, the King of the First House of the Shapeshifters had his wrists shackled to a wall. "It won't be long now, your grace." The king lifted his head at the sound of that voice, that taunting, terrible voice was all that rose out of the dark. "His hunger grows with the falling of the sun."

"It doesn't have to be this way. You could let us all go." The king said, his voice barely above a whisper as if the waiting had robbed him of some strength.

"To what end, your grace?" Laughter rose and fell. "He is the High King of this world: there would be nowhere to escape that he couldn't find you."

"There are people that will stop him."

"And who could stand against a god?"

"He's not a god." Galen mumbled.

"I have seen no creature able to withstand him, not even those who call themselves kings or Maegesters or-"

"Gundermann." The Dragon's voice was unmistakable as it echoed large in the darkness, the sound sliced through the man's voice like a sharp blade. Torches burst to life around the prison throwing harsh light upon the king's face and he had to squint to adjust to the new light and the sight of The Dragon.

He appeared a young man, angelic, innocuous almost but there was strength in his young body, he bore an otherworldly grace and beauty from his ivory skin to the ebony darkness of his hair and such eyes that held the look a predator who was about to feast on his prey. You would not know you were in danger until the last moment.

Gundermann was a large, awkward porcine man, compared to his master his large round features were flushed red and the king had a moment to see his small eyes open to reveal white around the iris before he dropped to his knee in deference at The Dragon's appearance.

The Dragon's glittering gaze fell upon the king and the king remained defiant, his lips pressed together, his gaze intent on that young face refusing to betray the weakness in his body.

The Dragon cocked his head, hair drifted into his eyes, the flame casting blood red highlights in his dark hair. He looked so very young. "There is a remedy for those that will not kneel."

He motioned for the large man to come forward, Gundermann materialised a Japanese Katana in one hand, the hilt looked as if it were carved of bone and polished to shine, the blade caught the light and for a moment it looked as if the steel were aflame. There was only a moment for the king to comprehend The Dragon's unspoken command before Gundermann brought the blade down in a graceful arc, he sliced through the meat, muscle and bone, removing the king's entire right leg.

Shock disguised the immediate pain but the king's lips parted to scream, but any sound died quickly as he lurched forward to vomit bile.

The Dragon smiled, delighting in the king's pain, he held up a hand before Gundermann could remove the other leg. "Even I can be merciful, if you would but bow to me, King of Shapeshifters."

"Someone will stop you." The king hissed before he choked on his pain.

The Dragon made a motion with his hand and Gundermann wielded his sword to slice off the left leg as well.

The king didn't have breath to scream at the second wave of pain, two grave wounds one after the other and he was soon falling in and out of consciousness. Time might have passed and he would not have known. The pain had stolen his sense of time and space and he was a throbbing mass of exquisite agony. He could hear his heart beat thunder and ebb, a river returning to the ocean.

The Dragon leant down to lay his mouth atop the king's. "I accept your fealty, King Galen." He spoke against the other's lips and it was like the fluttering of a moth's wing, blood painted The Dragon's mouth from where it leaked between Galen's lips.

* * *

Miss S


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

_2066_

* * *

_Her fingertips slid over the cool surface of the gun metal, there was grit under the small crescents of her fingernails and the pads of her fingers were now slick with oil. A pale slender hand engulfed the child's hand. "No, honey." Her mother whispered in her ear. "Don't touch that."_

_An old soldier picked up the rifle and slung it carelessly over his shoulder, he flashed a brief crooked smile, a half smoked cig drooped between his lips a long scar ran up the right side of his chin. He joined the stream of other men, their boots forming a rhythm as they marched._

"_Where are they going?" The girl asked her eyes move rapidly over the marching soldiers._

"_To the city, honey." Her mother said clinging tightly to her daughter's hand, holding her close. "To war."_

Soldier pulled up her collar against the hot eastern wind. Funny how one little memory could slide so immediate and vital into one's mind, it stole the breath from her lungs putting her momentarily in a place out of time, she remembered with startling clarity the scent that clung to her mother's dress…

"_Will they come back?" She asked, young, ignorant and hopeful._

"_I don't know, honey." Her mother replied._

"You okay, Soldier?" The voice startled her; the chip was embedded in the skin behind her right ear, feeding the voice direct to her brain so it was audible only to her.

"I'm fine, Sarge." She said, her voice quavering a little.

"I thought I lost you." Alan Edwards muttered in her mind before he cleared his throat and put on a more bureaucratic tone. "What do you see, constable?"

Soldier stood on the precipice of the Shard, or what remained of the once tallest building in the city of London, she looked down on the ruins spread beneath her; the remains of a city ravaged by war and fire, a city now in the sway of The Dragon.

She watched Revenants scuttle like rats between shadows and concrete crevices, three Ravens perched below observed the spread of the land and a legion of The Dragon's men were carrying out their routine march across Southwark bridge.

She slid her index finger up the smooth steel cuff on her left wrist and a 4.8" three dimensional screen popped up, she modulated the image in a rapid series of taps, a 2-dimensional 36 square grid appeared dividing the map into sections and she began to record what she saw; the surveillance information would be fed back to the central mainframe and the colony tacticians would collate the information received by all surveillance constables to formulate their strategies for moving about the city for supply routes and rescues.

"It's business as usual." She sighed. "Three Ravens on the tower and The Dragon's men on the bridge."

"Any sign of the German?"

"None. No movement on the river."

They had been waiting for the arrival of German dignitaries; several European governments had been ingratiating themselves with The Dragon, thinking to protect their land by pledging fealty to him. With each new territory he gained he gained more power. If he secured the fealty of Germany it would cut off Britain's supplies from Eastern Europe.

She cast her gaze down the dark glittering Thames, she saw the spine of a Kelpie appear and disappear in the blink of an eye and she shuddered. "None." She murmured.

"That's enough for the night." His voice crackled slightly as the sulphur clouds gathered above her, interfering with the signal. "Come back in, it looks like rain."

"Yes, Sarge." She murmured.

* * *

"My King." Jan Van Dorman spoke slowly, deliberately pronouncing the words in a tongue that was foreign to him. He spoke slowly, trying to ignore the cloying stench of the dead, the corpses that surrounded him and the dead feasting upon the dead. "I have come all of this way to show my respect-"

His voice sounded broad and hollow in the amphitheatre, real fire torches lit the hall throwing a sick orangey glow on the gathered and dark shadows on the rest.

"Respect?" The Dragon's voice carried with it the sibilance of snakes; he stood and his dark robes audibly scraped against the concrete floor. "Do I command your respect or do I command your fear?"

The sound of flesh being sundered from flesh and the cracking of bones filled Van Dorman's ears. "Fear." He exhaled in one long, shuddering breath.

The Dragon laughed and the sound echoed around the dome. His face was youthful, handsome, a cop of dark hair fell messily onto his forehead but it could not disguise the tapering horns protruding from his brow. "I accept your gifts, Jan Van Dorman."

Van Dorman bowed his head, his hands clutched together in almost a prayer like gesture but it was only to stop the trembling of his fingers.

He beckoned for the nude, manacled girls to be brought to him and they were pulled roughly by Gunderman, the large, porcine man in the ill fitted black suit.

Van Dorman was glad that The Dragon's attention had shifted from him, he felt his shoulders sag with it and he suffered himself to watch the gaggle of women he had helped transport from his homeland to The Dragon's den.

He could see how The Dragon took pleasure in their slender, shivering flesh and naked fear; he sniffed the air and sighed with delight. Each one was beautiful in their own way, some tall and slender, other small and voluptuous, each from a different land, representing a different vein of the same Power.

His people had spent years hunting them out, knowing their great worth and what a great ally they could make in their trade.

"Bring that one to me." The Dragon said a hint of dark amusement in his voice.

The woman didn't struggle as Gundermann gripped her arms and tugged her to stand before The Dragon. She was marked with intricate patterns of torture, her flesh and been sliced and scored in spirals. She spoke in a language no one understood, except The Dragon who was old enough to remember.

Her voice was the hissing sibilance of an angry serpent and her head reared back as she spat at The Dragon's feet in sheer contempt.

A sudden, heavy silence fell in the room, the writhing, feasting creatures in the outer darkness ceased to move waiting for The Dragon's reaction.

He stood from his chair, dark robes flowing, snaking across the floor, the fabric looked wet, slick like coils and whispered across the stone floor.

"I do not wish you to forget, Jan Van Dorman." The Dragon spoke, his voice like a crack of thunder, his Power eddied and swirled about him, palpable, tickling on Van Dorman's tongue. He took hold of the woman's chin between thumb and forefinger, pulling her face so close it looked as if they would kiss. "I eat my own kind." He murmured those words against her lips in an intimate gesture until he darted forward taking her mouth between his teeth and tearing the flesh of her face, blood erupted against his ivory features, the woman fell to the floor paralyzed by pain but she did not scream.

Her hair was limp against the cobbles exposing her face that was half ruined and her head were the dark nubs of seven horns.

Van Dorman was shaking from head to toe with fear and underlying that was disgust.

The Dragon's eyes were lit by infernal flame and they focused on the German alone. "I rose from the abyss to hold dominion over the earth, go and tell your masters, no one can stand against me now."

* * *

Miss S


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

* * *

The Eden Colony was on the fringes of the western suburbs of London, founded by Professor Stanley Ribbon, a psychic who had foreseen the apocalypse long before the millennium battle. The colony was protected by powerful magic: it helped to conceal it from the wandering eye of The Dragon and predators of the Night.

It was the last largest free colony in Southern England, the second largest was Northumberland in the north and third was Lincolnshire in the East. The colonies were large sprawling communities of humans and non-humans; they were self-sufficient groups having military units, schools, crop and cattle farms.

There were other pockets of free humans dotted about the cities but life was harder for them. The Eden Colony was the last free colony in London leaving the free humans in London to move through the subterranean maze, 82 miles of intercepting sewers parallel to the river Thames.

The tunnels had been abandoned by the Night and Eden's most powerful spell casters had put wards to make sure they wouldn't want to return to them.

There were infections and viruses in the cities; some were deadly to humans and the colony manufactured gas masks that would protect them from exposure as they moved underground. The Colony engineers had long ago set up atmosphere processors to purify the bolt holes in the tunnels, they were small bunks equipped with supply cabinets spaced in intervals throughout the tunnels.

Produce was no longer imported for human consumption, supply routes were carefully controlled by the Night and goods were smuggled regularly by Colonies. Soldier was part of the surveillance team who fed into operations to move food and medical supplies to free humans across the city.

Surveillance and operations were part of the military units of the Colonies call Constabularies, the Constabularies kept the peace both inside the community and protected the community from the Night.

Soldier Dominick had been born and raised in Eden, she had joined the Constabulary when she was young; eager to absorb herself in anything other than the harrowing memories of her mother's death. Every man or woman had the right to fight and protect their home and she was no different at eight years old.

She walked in darkness, just a small extension of magic and she used the shadow like a cloak and for anyone or anything that looked they would not see her but an amorphous blackness that blended into the night.

She wore a colony issue fitted M7 fibre cat suit that concealed throat, to wrist, to heel, on top of it she wore the staple Constabulary ballistic vest, thigh holster, knife belt and combat boots. She had added the black scarf and had it wrapped tight around the lower half of her face to help filter the sulphur content and a black hoodie to add bulk and conceal her stainless steel wrist guards.

She came to the border of Colony land and she could feel the wards press upon her like a fist, if she reached out she could feel the magic as thick as stew and if she knew if she touched it with your bare skin it would feel icy, wet and unpleasant.

It was designed to keep out the Night, some beings would avoid the area altogether but for those that tested the wards they would be marred by uneasiness, nausea and fear. If you stood for long enough in the thick of the magic it would start to speak to you, slithering, echoes of distress, sounds that would be enough to drive away even a battle hardened Constabulary man.

It was a magic that pulled the worst of your fears and nightmares to life, a spell that would break your mind and reduce you to a snivelling mass, forever walking the darkest labyrinthine paths of your mind never to be free.

Soldier pushed through it quickly, even though she wore the sprig of heather and Angelica to stave off the worst of the spell it was still powerful enough to stir her memories, the faintest echo of her mother's voice. When she was through the other side, she glanced behind her and there was nothing but overgrown fauna and a curving line of sycamores framing an ordinary suburban meadow lane.

She headed toward the colony entrance, a packed mound of earth that spoke of nothing of what was beyond, the entrance again was a piece of magic and it would open only to those it would recognise, this was not witch magic but Fey.

She had to uncover one hand and held it up toward the shimmer of power, she felt the magic latch onto her fingertips like the suckers of an octopus, she felt he thrill of recognition and the way opened like a seam in the fabric of reality emitting warmth and fragrance of the life within.

She stepped inside the colony proper and felt a wave of relief wash over her, another day another night and she was still alive. She pushed back the hood a little and rubbed at her forehead which was damp with perspiration, and her fingertips grazed the puckered scars that were neatly hid beneath her dark fringe.

She had forgotten now how she had got the scars, it had happened whilst her mother was still alive, whilst she was very young, some accident or other. She had always had a fringe to conceal her forehead and cover up those ugly scars.

She remembered the way her mother would brush her hair up and lay a kiss on her forehead as if the scars didn't exist at all; it had always made her feel beautiful and loved, a feeling she had only had with her mother and never since.

"Welcome back, Sol."

She raised her hand in a wave.

There was a bustle of bodies as she entered the gates to the military quarter. She entered the stream of bodies asking of no one in particular. "What's going on?" She asked.

An old solider glanced at her quickly muttering. "Allies from the Pacific Districts of America: they shipped in whilst you were out."

She pushed her way forward through the crowd to get a look. She saw tall, strong, soldiers, all young men and tough looking women in army fatigues, they were causing quite a stir. They stood in rigid lines, their expressions stern and focused and their eyes fixed to a point in front of them, as if they didn't see the shabby denizens of Eden peering at them.

At the front stood a man clothed in black, tall, dark hair cropped short and stormy grey eyes appraising the British, his cold aristocratic mouth formed in an almost-sneer.

She could hear some of the conversation, dipping in the whispers of the surrounding crowd. The elders had gathered representing the different branches of the Colony community. Soldier tried to find Alan in the crowd, surely he would be representing Surveillance and Supplies; but in her attempt to get a better look she was nudged forward and stumbled managing to regain her balance moments before she would have collided with the grey eyed American man.

"Is that how you greet a superior officer? Remove your hood." He growled, she could feel those words vibrate in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps man had been too generous an estimation.

She pulled down her hood as she had been rold and ran a hand through her tangled, grease slicked hair, flashing the scars on her forehead for a brief instant. Her bobbed hair and heavy fringe fell into clumped tendrils around her face. A volley of gasps and mutters rose in the crowd; some were all surprised to see a young woman whilst others that knew her were staring nervously.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Soldier."

"Your name?" He barked.

"That is her name, Major General." Sergeant Alan Edwards stood forward putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. He was tall and muscled gentleman of about forty-five years, his russet hair had flecks of grey and his square jawed handsomeness was marred by three C-shaped scar on his cheek.

The Major General's eyes narrowed into jewelled slits.

"That is my name." Soldier said softly with an amused close lipped smile. "Soldier Dominick."

"Alright, alright." Edwards tugged her back and nodded toward the barracks. "Why don't you go cool off, Soldier."

Soldier walked away with the Major General's cold gaze sliding all over her.

"What is her designation, Sergeant?"

"She's a scout for Unit Two, sir, she specialises in surveillance. She's been to the city on-"

"Thank you, Sergeant."

The sound of their voices faded as she walked away heading to the barracks to shower. She'd been in the city for several days, laid low among the Revenants, her wrist cuffs allowed her to programme her magic and she could replicate the scent of any species so as to get around the territories without fear of detection.

The Revenants had only basic intelligence and were guided by scent and sight, if she smelt like one of them and looked like a shadowy figure shrouded in black they tended to stay away from her. They were far more interested in fresh, living blood and meat.

She had been in the city watching for the arrival of the German dignitaries, hoping to alert the colony to intercept them, but they never came or at least she hadn't seen their convoy. She knew The Dragon's men were extra cautious since the Colony had interfered with the importing of slaves from Eastern Europe. She didn't know if they had magic enough to conceal people from moving about the city but it was possible.

She kicked off her boots and stripped off her stinking hoodie soaked with sweat and sulphur and peeled off her suit until she stood in her underwear. She was relieved to take off the sports bra that bound her breasts tightly and she peeled off her underwear damp with perspiration.

She hadn't heard an American fleet was coming to the Colony, she had no notion of why they were in Eden or what intentions they had. It was difficult to get into Britain: the skies and seas were monitored on four sides, by French, Spanish, Irish and Norwegian troops. Those Americans had balls, she could admit that at least.

She picked up her bar of soap and strode into the showers, greeting a few of the Unit Two crew with a nod. They were solitary creatures in Unit Two, taking shifts in the city territories.

"What's it like out there?" One asked.

"Quiet." She said as she turned on the shower and an icy spray of water hit her body. "It looks like rain."

She received a curt nod and they walked away.

She sighed in pleasure as the air turned from icy to lukewarm and she watched the dirt of the city swirl down the plug hole.

* * *

Miss S


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

* * *

"_What are you doing, honey?" Her mother placed her hands on her slender shoulders and squeezed gently. Her touch was always warm, reassuring. _

"_Playing." She replied. Her mother's grip became tight, her fingertips digging. "You're hurting me."_

"_Where did you get that?" Her voice quavered with fear._

_She remembered how the bird felt, sticky and limp in her hands, the neck broken and head lolling. The dead bird's belly had been ripped through the middle, entrails seeping from the wounds. _

"_No, honey." Her mother scooped the bird from her hands. "You don't play with the dead."_

Soldier didn't know why she remembered that incident in particular nor why it came to her when she was towelling off her body. She never told her mother or anyone that she had ripped that bird's belly apart with her own nails and fingertips.

"Hi Sol." She raised her eyes to the pretty young girl sitting on her bunk; she had large expressive chocolate brown eyes and afro hair wild about her head. Persephone Jones had taken a liking to Soldier almost as soon as they met and often braved the wilds of the barracks to come seek her out.

"Hi, cadet." She replied unperturbed throwing down her towel. "You okay?"

The young girl sat and watched as Soldier pulled on a clean pair of underwear. "One day I'm going to be like you." She said with the dreamy adoration of ignorant youth.

"I damn well hope not." Soldier muttered under her breath.

In that space of a moment the girl's caramel fingertips moving over the small Berretta BU9 Nano Soldier had left on the bunk. "Don't touch that Seph." She snatched the gun up. She had been Persephone's age when she had shot her first gun. "It's dangerous, honey."

"I know. I was being careful." Persephone thrust out her bottom lip.

Soldier touched her soft hair, threading fingers through her curls. "I know that, love." She suddenly felt old, lonely and very sad; she had a vision of Persephone a grown woman, a hardened warrior with only weapons to keep her flesh company. Soldier sighed.

"Persephone Jones." Her mother's voice admonished before she appeared and the girl shrieked and ran to hide behind Soldier's leg. "Has she been bothering you again?"

Lily Quinlan was a little shorter than Soldier at five foot two, her blonde hair crackled about her face, flawless white skin and two jewel like blue eyes that were full of life and kindness. Lily was frowning at her daughter but it didn't reach her eyes.

Soldier winked conspiratorially at the girl who tried to supress a giggle by pushing a hand to her mouth. "She was on a special mission tonight."

"And what would that be?" A pale brow arched quizzically.

"Guarding my rear."

Persephone peeked out from behind Soldier's leg to salute and then ducked back to hide from her mother.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Sol." Lily reached out and squeezed her arm. There wasn't many people that she trusted enough to touch her but Lily had been a friend since she arrived in the colony, three months pregnant with Persephone and no other family to speak of.

"Any time." She said and patted her friend's arm.

"Away with you." Lily shepherded her giggling wayward daughter through the barracks and Soldier watched them go with a smile.

She pulled on a black tank top and some baggy combat trousers tucked into her boots. She could not remove the silver cuff, she ran her hand over one idly, they had been put on when she was a child, she remembered the kindly old Circle of witches who sat with her as they clamped them in place.

"For safety." One had said and ruffled her cap of dark hair.

She ran her fingers over the cuffs, the cool steel offering her comfort, they had been with her a long time and had saved her life on more than one occasion and no matter what hit them they remained smooth, unmarked bands of cool steel.

They could become unbearable hot if she tried to exercise her magic beyond the boundaries which had been set to her, she was like a mouse in a cage being conditioned with small electric shots but instead of shocks the cuffs would become like hot brands and she could feel her flesh cook beneath them, resisting the rising magic.

They would cool in time. Her flesh would heal too.

She headed out of the barracks.

She smiled, nodded and waved at friends as she passed, she walked by gruelling session of close quarters combat training, she could hear the echo of bullets being fired from the gun range. She was heading out of the military quarters to the family commune.

The air was different here, the scent of gun oil and sulphur, soldier sweat and violence fell away and there was warmth and the pleasant sounds of music and children screaming as they played. The Colony ensured that all the children were well provided for with homes, food, education.

In this place writers were able to write, musicians were able to play. It wasn't a perfect life but it was life on Eden Colony and it was better than what was beyond the high walls and mounds of earth. Soldier had grown up here, she had spent most of her time in the barracks but before that, when her mother was alive, she had lived in the civilian quarters where there was joy and laughter.

Even Soldier knew the Colony's life was finite; the reach of The Dragon was slowly encroaching on the suburbs and beyond, his army marching more frequently.

"Hi, Sol." A woman waved to her from across a row of beautifully kept roses.

Soldier smiled and waved. "They look beautiful, Charlotte."

The girl beamed at her. Soldier reached out and touched a petal with her fingertip, the edges were fading slightly from the rich crimson to an orange and she pushed a small whisper of magic into the flower to restore it to an uninterrupted rich colour.

"Thank you." Charlotte said breathily as if she had felt the rush of power.

Soldier nodded. "Don't mention it." She walked away quickly.

There were few supernaturals here, those of witch and even Fae blood though the latter were rare because the air wasn't altogether stable, flora and fauna were increasingly hard to cultivate as the land turned bitter and hard. Eden had hydroponic domes which were presided over by Fae and witches who were distant kin anyway.

There were some solitary shapeshifters here too, most kept to themselves, some were even part of the Constabulary and had proved themselves useful, even trustworthy but prejudices still ran rife for it was The Dragon that had them all pinned in this place, never moving forward, afraid of looking back.

The Colony did not reject the People who chose to seek sanctuary. Some people even had relationships with them, families, Soldier's mother was a witch who had been with a regular soldier, in fact a soldier so regular that nobody cared to remember who he was and none knew how he died or if he had. Sometimes she looked at the battle scarred faces of the old boys sitting in the barracks and wondered.

She entered the pre-fabricated building, the scent of bleach and other chemicals was like a solid fist ramming up her nostrils and into her throat. "Shit." The expletive rang high pitched and packed with every inch of frustration that showed plane upon the man's face when she stepped into the unit.

Darren Grant was a scientist and inventor, a promising young student who had never got to realise his full academic potential. He was content in Eden to work in the pre-fab building tucked away where he could experiment to his heart's content. He was a short man of about five foot two inches, with curly dark hair falling messily into grey-green eyes that were framed by thick rimmed round glasses and a larger pair of scientific goggles.

"What this?" She asked sidestepping the puddle of acid slowly fizzing as it ate through the plasterboard and concrete.

"I'm testing a new M8 fibre." He murmured lifting his goggles to blink over at her. "Completely acid resistant."

She made a face and then smiled and he broke out into a grin dropping his tools. "What can I do you for, Soldier love?"

"My chip's been getting all sorts of interference." She said scratching behind her ear with the short crescent of her fingernails.

"Giving you headaches?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "But it itches like crazy."

"Your skin's rejecting the new implant. How long has it been this time, eight months? A record." He patted the salvaged dentist's chair. "Let me take a look, love."

She tied her hair back in a sever bun and eased into the chair, settling in whilst Grant pulled on new surgical gloves.

"How are those scars treating you?"

"My skin feels a little tight after a hot shower."

"Hmmm." He examined her forehead putting on his goggles; they magnified his eyes to a ridiculous size. "It must be a reaction to the acidity in the city air, I can probably whip you up a cooling salve but I think you should make an appointment with Magda's lot to be sure."

Magda was a witch and a certified doctor, she ran a team of healers that served the whole Colony. Magda could exercise her magical abilities to progress healing and laid her hand to those badly injured. Soldier had been seeing her more frequently to look at the scars or her head that sometimes grew red and angry after being exposed to the city.

"Is it really that bad?" She murmured.

"Nah." He said. "But it's better to be sure, love."

His fingers hovered over her wrist cuffs and a frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. "Sol?"

She didn't meet his eyes.

"These things are hot." They were searing in fact but she refused to show pain or pay it any mind, she had afterall inflicted the pain on herself. "Sol?"

"Don't worry about it." She mumbled.

"You've been Practising." He whispered.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she shook her head, asking him without words not to speak of it.

"You know you're not supposed to, love." He said softly and put a hand on her arm, squeezing slightly.

She nodded. Of course she knew. She had agreed to forsake her witch heritage to become what she was now, a soldier, but it didn't change the fact that she was still a creature of magic. There was something inside her, a nagging feeling calling her to her magic and as she explored the city she could feel the great and awful beat of the heart of the earth calling to her.

The cuffs were what bound her Power, better to have none at all than let it run as wild and wilful as it would without proper nurturing or instruction.

She had tried to summon magic, a mist, a cloud, the darkness itself and she had succeeded in small ways but even that came at a price. The price was the searing heat of the cuffs against her skin but she knew in time that hurt would heal.

Grant took hold of her hand and it was only then she realised that they were trembling. "Go to Magda before the day is through, girl."

She nodded.

"Well." The word was accompanied by a grunting cough that startled the both of them. Grant turned around slowly and Soldier peered around him to see his wife Noreen Grant saunter into the lab, her painted lips curved in a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. "Sol, it's good to see you."

Soldier sat up straighter and forced her own smile. Noreen was a large, voluptuous woman that managed to fill the room with the force of her personality alone. Grant rolled his eyes good naturedly but endured his wife's peck on the cheek and her arm snaking possessively about his shoulders.

"Coming round for dinner, pet?" Noreen asked but Soldier knew those subtle tones that seemed to speak louder than her words.

"What are you cooking?" Soldier asked getting to her feet, ruffling her fringe to cover her forehead.

"Vegetable broth."

Soldier winced and renewed the strength of her smile. "Thank you but I'm busy."

"You know exactly what to say to scare the good people off, Reeny." Grant muttered as he removed his surgical gloves with a snap. Everyone knew Noreen's cooking was about as pleasant as sipping on rain water but not nearly as flavourful.

"That's a pity maybe another time, eh?"

"See you." Soldier said and fled from the room. The Dragon's soldiers may have been intimidating but Noreen was a fearsome creature all on her own and Soldier would not suffer her wrath for anything.

She walked without real purpose and only came to a stop when Edwards grasped her elbow, forcing her to stop. "I need to talk with you."

She nodded and let him guide her away, wondering at the press of his fingertips into her skin, hard and angry. They stopped in a discreet corner, waiting for people to pass them by until they were alone enough not to be overheard.

Alan's features were flushed, his cheeks taken on the russet tinge of his hair, his eyes were murky, angry, she knew the signs and she braced herself. "Why did you have to pull that shit with the PDA brass?"

"He asked me a question and I answered, Sarge." She said archly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

He pulled her in close to him, she could see passed the anger to the embarrassment in his eyes. "Next time I'll have you in for disciplinary."

"Disciplinary?" She asked with a mocking curve of her brow. "And who suggested that, your new American friend?"

"Look, Soldier-"

"I know, Sarge." She said detaching herself from his grasp and patting his arm gently. "If it makes you feel better, Alan, I'll go and apologise to the PDA Major General."

He sighed.

They had been friends for a very long time, he couldn't be angry toward her no more than she could be angry with him, it was a momentary burst that would be instantly forgiven. "Okay?" She asked and he nodded though his mouth remained pursed and unhappy.

She patted his arm. "I'll fix it." She said and walked away.

"That's what I'm afraid of." She heard him mutter under his breath.

* * *

Miss S


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

* * *

It wasn't hard for Soldier to figure out where the Major General would take up quarters; Professor Ribbon's old study was large and airy, it had a long cherry wood table, Soldier remembered being a child and not being able to see over the top.

The PDA soldiers were posted at intervals down the corridor leading to the Major General's quarters, they didn't even glance at her as she strode past them though she studied them carefully from the corners of her eyes, all had smooth, young faces, incredibly focused eyes, they were true soldiers. Killers.

A soldier stepped in front of her, blocking the door. "What do you want, girl?" He had a startling Southern drawl.

He was tall and broad and terribly blond, his huge muscled arms folding across his chest creating a blockade of his body. His expression was sober and unreadable, like a mask. "I want to see the General." She said. "Please."

His brow quirked upward, and emotion brooked over his face and there was a hint of laughter in this new expression and despite herself she took a liking to him.

"Let her in, private." The Major General's voice emanated ominously from behind the soldier's back.

"Yes, sir." He said and winked down at Soldier. He opened the door, flexing a large tanned muscle and she stepped inside, glancing over her shoulder at the golden soldier, waiting for the door to close behind her.

There were more military inside, two tall and utterly forgettable soldiers. She passed them both into the room, heading toward the cherry wood desk where the Major General was seated waiting for her. She offered a mock salute.

"Well, what do you want, constable?" He asked brusquely.

"I'm here to apologise, General Keller." She said. "Sir." A sloppy salute followed.

He motioned for his companions to leave and they moved soundlessly. He turned his baleful stare on her. "Are you mocking me, Soldier Dominick?"

"A little." She said feeling her lips turn up at the corners.

"I am not impressed."

"If I were trying to impress you you'd be fucking impressed." She murmured.

"I do not tolerate insolence in my corps."

She turned her eyes to his, lashes narrowing to angry slits.

"If it were up to me." He said and got to his feet, chair scraping across the ground. "I would have you disciplined."

Another smile crooked the corner of her mouth, a slew of insults hot on her tongue, some allusion to a bondage fetish maybe…His arm reached for her, a sudden motion, his limbs were a blur but she was ready and stood inside his attack, using his momentum to manoeuvre him into her grasp with him stand in front, her front pressed to his back pressing his own hand holding the small serrated blade against his twitching Adam's apple. "So you're not just all mouth." He said from between his teeth.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking us weak just because we're not a big and fancy American colony." She released him slowly. "Sir."

He stared at her, his eyes betraying his inhumanness as they filled with an angry eldritch light. His eyes were the eyes of a predator and she knew he was not human but merely disguised as one.

"We've grown up in this war." She said and dropped the small knife on his makeshift desk. "I think we've earned the right to be a little…insolent." She stepped away from him, putting the desk between them, it would not save her if he chose to use his inhuman strength but it would give her moments to decide what to do.

"I am sorry if you misunderstood me, sir. I'll cooperate one hundred percent when it comes to confronting that son of a bitch."

"We're not here to confront The Dragon." He said deadpan.

"What?"

"We're here to take your people to the free districts in North America."

Anger bubbled inside her decimating any trace of good humour left. Soldier spoke quietly, soberly. "People have died fighting for freedom in this city; if you think we'd abandon it now, you're crazy."

"You have no choice." The Major General's grey eyes glinting as he spoke. "He is simply too powerful. Northumberland have already agreed they're being evacuated as we speak."

"Bully for them."

"York will be next."

"What about the districts of free roaming humans?" They were scattered across the country and no big American tank could cruise through the Night territories picking them up.

"They're welcome to get out of this place too. All we have to do is raise a call and they should all come marching our way."

She was boiling with anger and disbelief. They'd abandon her home to the beasts and run like cowards. She could feel her cheeks grow warm and she began to shiver with rage, her head slowly moved from side to side to reject the notion of fleeing from the enemy. "I have to go." She said faintly because if she had stayed she would have done something that they would all regret.

* * *

"Constable?" The soldier with the southern drawl followed at Soldier's heels. "Hey, wait a minute."

She strode up to Alan with the American trailing her. Few colonists glanced up and shared arched looks, they were used to seeing Soldier stride through civilian areas especially where Alan Edwards was near. "When were you going to tell us about this?" She shouted; she couldn't help herself there was no trace of military discipline in the face of her anger.

Edwards had the grace to look embarrassed and his companions moved away slowly muttering their excuses. The American stood at her shoulder watching the two have their exchange. "There are children here, Soldier."

"This is their home." She said pointing to the ground at her feet.

"But what kind of life are they living?" He snapped back. "There are places in this world where they can run free without fear of monsters."

"It's only a matter of time before he takes even that away."

"Soldier." He sighed. "I'm thinking about what's best for the people."

"With all due respect, sir." She said through her teeth. "Fuck you."

She strode away.

The American reached out as if he were going to stop her but she was already far out of his reach, Alan grasped his hand by the wrist. "Let her go, son."

"Do you let all your subordinate officers speak to you like that, sir?" He asked softly.

"We grew up together." Edwards explained softly. "She's the only one I'd let speak to me like that."

"She did a number on Major Keller. He's boiling mad."

"She can have that effect on people." He murmured with a small sad smile.

* * *

Miss S


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

* * *

She stared at the children running, screaming, laughing. They deserved peace but she firmly believed they should have that in their own home and London was their home. She stared at Persephone who was playing General, lining the children up for inspection.

Her lips twitched upward in an almost smile.

She thought of her mother. Her mother had her late in life, she had been in her late forties, despite this she looked young, she had good genes: pale and delicate and unlike her daughter who was dark and tough. She remembered playing with the soldiers as a child, her and Alan, they had learnt how shoot guns, how to move without being seen, how to protect themselves.

She grew up in the barracks with the men after her mother died, she and Alan, they had become Constabulary: Alan rising effortlessly through the ranks whilst she remained in the field as part of the surveillance unit, moving through the city, alone, in disguise.

It was hard to conceive why, after a life spent trying to fight to survive and protect those she loved that she could just leave it all behind.

She went to the medical quarters, it was a place of witch magic as much as any modern human medicines though the medical quarters had two units, an emergency sight between the entrance and the barracks and their main sight of operations here by the family commune.

"I don't have time for you." Magda said coldly to Soldier as soon as she entered.

Magda's manner was always cold toward her and had been since Soldier had rejected the witches to stay at the barracks and be raised by soldiers. Magda had always resented her for it and though she spoke bluntly she didn't deny Soldier her healing abilities.

"Grant sent me about the scars."

Magda sighed. "Fine."

She waited whilst Magda pottered around, she smiled at the other witches that came and went, under strict orders not to encourage Soldier, they offered brief, secret smiles of greeting.

"Sit." Magda said swivelling the chair round.

She did.

"You're wearing the bandana too much." Magda grumbled. "Sweat irritates the skin."

"Better than acid." Soldier mumbled.

"Shhh." Magda admonished and shone a bright light on her forehead. "We may have to remove some tissue. I have something that will help promote healing after this is done."

Soldier groaned inwardly. It always hurt when they took a scalpel to her head. Anaesthetic never seemed strong enough, she always felt the pain.

"Lie back and don't talk." Magda murmured and Soldier lay her head back against the chair and closed her eyes and fell into a strange kind of sleep.

Soldier had been there, had seen it._ The bullet sped through the air impacting her mother's chest, bright red blood bursting against pale fabric of a summer dress and then another and another. The sound of it, huge thuds and sucking sound of flesh parting, the bullets ripping her body in half._

She had seen it, she had been there, _blood burst across her face, painting her red, filling her mouth._

_Her limp hand falling to the ground with a thud, fingers twitching as if reaching and Soldier staring not daring to touch her. Her lips parting, blood painting her teeth, the inside of her mouth. "Run." She gasps and then ecstatic staccato breath and then no more. Not ever again. _Not ever again.

Soldier woke with a gasp.

She immediately felt her forehead, it throbbed feeling like so much raw meat and then the sensation of tight bindings, she lifted a hand and experimentally touched the gauze.

"Don't touch that." Magda's voice cut through the haze of her dreams and shock of waking. "Just go back to your bunk. Rest."

Soldier did as she was told, there was no point pressing Magda for her expertise. She eased herself out of the chair and stretched her limbs hearing the clicks and pops and headed toward the door. She didn't bother to say goodbye and Magda wouldn't be offended, or if she was it would do nothing to improve or worsen her mood.

She didn't want to go back to her bunk, another day, another night. There was so much weighing on her mind only nightmares would come of it. She headed instead to the barracks watering hole. It was a tin shack, nothing special from the outside but inside there were tables, chairs, a makeshift bar and homemade alcohol.

Soldiers would come to sit and talk, to share their private horrors or console themselves on moonshine and companionable silence.

The place was half filled a mix of Americans and Brits, she moved toward the bar, sliding into a stool and the barman, Wayne, put a glass of warm milk in front of her. "This is your only one, Sol, get it?"

She grunted and wrapped a hand around the glass, just the thing she needed to help her sleep, warm milk could take the edge off her nightmares but never prevent them. She had a strange feeling knotted in her chest telling her things like _danger _and _panic _as if something were coming.

"Can I get you a drink, honey?" Her shoulders hunched at the American twang, instantly irritated.

She lifted her glass of milk. "I'm not interested."

He placed an elbow on the bar and leant over her, his breath reeking of beer. "Come on, darlin'." He said. "You look like you could use the company."

"That's the last thing I want." She muttered and touched and gingerly touched the binding on her forehead. She sipped some of her hot milk and wiped the residue from her top lip with the back of her hand.

"You got a boyfriend or something?"

She grunted.

"C'mon." He said and touched her hair, lifting it from her face to expose her cheek and the bandage at her forehead. "Jesus." He fell back from shock tinged with disgust.

"Jared, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." The hulking soldier stood and stumbled away.

"He bothering you?"

She gulped down her milk and pushed the glass away. "Not anymore."

She looked up at the blond soldier who had been guarding the Major General's door. He peered down at her, unfazed by the bandage showing beneath her ruffled fringe. "I'm sorry about him, when he gets a drink in him he can be a real asshole. I'm Raeburn." He said thrusting out a hand. "Hank Raeburn. We've not been formally introduced."

"Look, I'm really tired-"

"I get that." He said and slid into the stool beside her. "You've been out there, haven't you? In the city?"

She nodded.

"I've never been to London before." He confessed. "Actually this is my first time out of the US."

"How do you like it?"

"People are nice." He said with a genuine smile.

She shook her head vaguely, a bitter expression on her face. This crazy motherfucker, she thought. He knew nothing about what he was getting himself involved in. She felt sorry for him. She reached out and touched his arm, squeezing the chorded muscle. "Go to your bunk and get some sleep, Hank Raeburn, it's really fucking late."

She got off her stool and saw the tension mounting between the US troops who sat in tight clusters clutching their pint glasses and the diehard drinking Eden colonists were scattered around enjoying their umpteenth pint of the night, anything to block out the bad dreams.

* * *

She lay down on her pallet and closed her eyes, afraid to sleep but feeling the weight of exhaustion in her bones. It seemed like a moment, a flash and suddenly it was daylight, the colony was swarming with life. She sat up, her back ached, her shoulders ached, her head ached. "Goddess." She hissed.

"You all right, girl?" She opened her eyes to see Graham, another field agent, sitting on his pallet rubbing his hands through his short hair. "You look like shite."

"Never better." She said through her teeth.

"Sounds like something big is happening." He muttered. "Must have something to do with those yanks."

"You think they're up to no good?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I'm just a grunt, Sol." He said and gave a lopsided smile. "If it means peace and quiet, it might not be a bad thing at all."

He stood and headed toward the showers and she remained sitting crookedly on her bunk thinking on his words.

* * *

Miss S


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

* * *

"Hi there." Hank Raeburn was ready with an easy grin and bright eyes. "I was hoping to see you again." His handsome face dazzled her for a moment, she could almost forget her bad mood, the confusion as a crowd gathered somewhere behind his back.

Soldier blinked. "What's going on?"

"The official word is being given to the civilians." He said glancing back at the crowd. "Evac begins tomorrow at 0800."

She gritted her teeth.

"You want to come? The Major General gives a great pitch. They'll be naming the new colony Eden Two."

She lifted angry eyes to his face, she wasn't mad at him, as Graham said, they were just grunts, they did what they were told, like all good soldiers. Hank didn't seem to notice her glare. "The Major may seem like an asshole but he's basically a good guy." He said. "This is really for the best for all of you."

"I don't believe that." She said glancing up at him and then away. Frustrated with the whole situation. Angry, sad, and thinking of the dead: her mother soaked through with blood, the city undulating in the darkness, the feel of fresh blood on her hands, the warmth of it on her face. She shuddered.

"Look, I know this must be tough."

"Do you?" She challenged capturing his clear grey eyes.

"My home was destroyed. I watched my parents' die, they were trapped in our burning home. If it weren't for the Major General and Lord Descouedres I'd be fried too." She knew the name Descouedres, he was an immortal Lord of the Night, The Saint, he had founded safe colonies, magic protected bubbles where those who chose to live in peace could co-exist. He had emerged in the US but had moved over other continents helping to protect the innocent, the vulnerable.

"I didn't mean that." She said. "I'm sorry, everyone's had it tough."

"No problem." He said with that easy grin. "You should think about getting on the convoy, Soldier."

"What about Eden?" She asked. "What about London?"

"The city is gone, girl."

She shook her head. "I don't believe that." Her mother had died for this city. She could feel the phantom of her mother's blood on her cheek, faintly warm. "You don't know anything about it." She whispered.

He grasped her hand and she startled but did not pull away, his hand was warm and large and hers was swallowed by the comfort of his touch. He held her hand whilst they stood on the fringe of the crowd, all the colonists had come to listen to Major General Keller's rhetoric.

She was numb, barely able to comprehend his words, her heart was thumping rapid and painful in her chest and her knees felt like jelly. The air around her seemed to become static charged and she could see wisps of her hair start to rise skyward.

"Holy shit." She heard Raeburn mutter and pull his hand from hers, he was cradling his wrist from where it had touched her cuff, his skin burnt, she looked up at him with hollow eyes.

"Sorry." She murmured and walked dazedly away and the sound of clapping and cheering erupted behind her.

* * *

Alan found Soldier standing in the atrium among the candy hues of peony and peaseblossom flowers. "What are you doing here?" She seemed startled as if she hadn't heard him approach, her eyes shot to his, her expression was grave and eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Hiding?"

She shrugged.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Sarge?" Her voice was husky.

"No one has elected to stay but you, Sol." Alan murmured. He watched her hands clench into fists and slowly unclench, she turned her face away from him and he heard a sigh pass her lips. "You will have no purpose out there now."

"I can't go." She whispered.

He grasped her sleeve and pulled her to face him. "You can."

She shook her head, hair sliding over her cheeks, her eyes large aqueous pools as they angled up to meet his face. "You don't understand."

"Explain it to me then." He said fiercely and watched as her lips moved as if trying to form words but finding none she gave a shrug. "Help me understand, Sol."

"People have died trying to keep our community safe." Her voice was barely above a whisper as if she were trying to contain herself and the full force of her fury.

He grasped her arm. "By going with them we are keeping our community safe, safer than it could ever be here in Britain."

"What was the point of their sacrifice if we're just going to leave?"

"They would rather we be truly free." He slowly removed his grasp from her arm, fingers trailing over her sleeve. "She would rather you be safe, Sol."

She dropped her head to hide her eyes and the new tears that gathered. "I can't leave, Alan."

"I want you to change your mind."

Soldier's dark head moved from side to side. _No_.

Alan straightened his back, his shoulder squaring as he withdrew emotionally and then physically as well. "I have a briefing."

"Okay, Sarge." She gave a nod and turned away from him, back to the comfort of the silence and the flora.

Alan marched toward the conference rooms, he tried to push the great ball of sadness that had gathered in his throat. When he arrived he found the others already ensconced in their seats, Magda sitting stiff backed, Grant slouching beside her and two of the leadership Gareth Redhead and Peter Greyson looking soberly up at him.

"You're late." Gareth said with a dark brow arched.

"I know. Shall we begin?" He asked and took a seat at the top of the table.

Gareth turned sparkling blue eyes on each face in turn. "We're here to discuss the dr-"

"Soldier." Alan interjected.

"Yes, Soldier Dominick." Gareth continued unperturbed. "She is the only one who has expressed an interest in remaining behind."

"Yes, sir." Alan confirmed.

"She cannot stay." Magda said. "She will not be safe."

"It's her decision." Grant's voice was soft and sad.

"What's the report on her hardware?" Peter asked.

Grant's eyes flicked to Alan's as he spoke. "She's starting to reject the latest implant; her healing capabilities are increasing at a higher rate than previous observations."

"Do you know why?" Alan asked.

He spread his hands. "No, I can only theorise."

"And the…protection?" Gareth asked turning to Magda.

"They are still intact." Magda said raising her chin high in the air. "The strongest Practitioners of our generation have ensured the cuffs will remain unbroken."

Gareth nodded. "And everything else is…stable?"

"Yes, sir." Grant nodded.

"Then I see no need for further discussion."

"But who will repair the wards?" Magda asked half rising from her seat.

"There will be no need of them. Not out there." Gareth said coolly. "As long as we're safe in Eden Two there is no need for us to concern ourselves with it."

"She will be so much meat out there." Magda said.

"That is her decision." Peter said, his voice soft but unconcerned.

"I don't like it, not one bit." She muttered.

"Me either." Alan said his voice husky from too much thought and not enough talk.

"There is something bad coming, the seers all say so." Magda said chair scraping as she got to her feet, staring boldly into his face. "We should all leave together. All of us."

Peter reached across the table to pat Magda's arm in a gesture of sympathy but it was a hollow gesture and though he spoke softly he bore no sympathy for Soldier Dominick nor those that cared about her. "It is out of our hands, she doesn't know the truth and she never needs to."

"Then you're condemning her." Magda said in disgust snatching her arm out of his reach.

"She has made her choice, like any free citizen and she has chosen to go her own way." Gareth said.

"And what happens if he gets hold of her?" Magda asked.

"She's skilled enough to evade capture." Alan said.

"A fool's hope." Magda sat back down, her features flushed with passion. Alan shared her doubt, one soldier in a city of beasts had little chance of survival and fewer chances of evading capture.

"You could command her to leave." Grant said eyes on Gareth and Peter and they shared a look between them.

"No." Alan said when the two men didn't respond. "She wouldn't listen to them. She won't even listen to me."

"Then let me spell her-" Magda began.

"No." Alan interjected. "No we won't use any more magic against her."

"She has a point." Grant said, a hopeful glean in his voice. "It would be as if she had made the decision herself and she would never need to know of it."

"No." Alan said firmly.

"I think this discussion is over. Soldier Dominick will be excluded from the Eden Two register. She will be known as a Colony deserter." Gareth said. "I'll inform the Major General."

Alan's hands trembled with rage and he balled them into tight fists. Gareth and Peter were the first to leave and when they did Grant leaned forward in his chair, his lips parting as if he were going to speak but he seemed to decide against it and slumped back in his chair shaking his head from side to side. "Let's just say our goodbyes then, eh?"

* * *

"I think he likes you." Lily murmured nodding toward Hank Raeburn.

"He's a sweet kid." Soldier said distractedly.

Lily squeezed her arm. "It's not easy to find something real in this world." She said softly, speaking from experience. "If you get the chance, Sol, take it and don't let it go."

Soldier nodded, she appreciated Lily's words but she didn't comprehend them, when she glanced at Hank she didn't feel anything of what Lily spoke about; maybe she was incapable of love in that way: she couldn't conceive of herself with a family.

A small blur came running across the green and Soldier was almost taken down by Persephone who clung tightly to her leg, smothering her tears against Soldier's hip. "Won't you come with us?" Persephone asked her large brown eyes glassy and tears wetting her round caramel cheeks.

Soldier shook her head, no. "I can't, Seph."

"Where will you go? Who will protect you?" The tears began to fall faster now.

"Don't worry about me, cadet." She said and knelt to embrace her little friend, laying her lips against the girl's soft round cheek. "I can take care of myself. And you must take care of your mum, okay?"

Persephone nodded and ran to cling to her mother who picked her up and held her tight. Lily muttered 'thank you' to Soldier before walking away to comfort her child. Soldier watched them for some time before Alan joined her fresh from his debriefing, he didn't speak at first, staring with her at Lily and her daughter.

"You can still have a life, Sol." Alan said softly and glanced at Private Raeburn who raised a hand to wave at them both from a distance. "Children."

"For the goddess' sake." She hissed under her breath, sick of hearing it, sick of them dangling the American soldier in front of her as if he were ever a temptation. She had never dreamt of having a family of her own, someone to love and protect her, to raise children with the tenacity of Persephone Jones…she was a soldier first and foremost and she understood that that life was not meant to be hers. What man would put up with her anyway?

Alan grasped her by the arms and pulled her into his chest, she was startled but clung to him, knowing it was the last time she would see him, the last time she would touch him, smell him. She breathed him deeply, the comforting scent of a soldier, his body still muscled and strong.

"They've closed down your access to the grid." Alan said softly into her ear. "There's a backdoor that will give you temporary access to the data files, maps and danger spots, you'll have a ten minute window max before PDA watchers shut you down, understand?"

"Thank you." She said and as she pulled back he tucked a data card into her hand.

"I want you to come with us do you hear me, Soldier?"

"Yes, sir." She said tears prickling behind her eyes.

He turned away to hide the gloss of tears on his own eyes.

Grant waved at her from a distance and was ushered inside a vehicle by some PDA army goon.

She would miss them, these strange people that made up her friends, her family. She watched their backs as they moved into the square tanks that would deliver them to the coast. She watched and waited until they were all packed away, row by row on the green lawns, surrounded and shepherded by the American soldiers.

She turned to see a four by four pulling up and saw the Major General through the window; he glared down at her from where he sat. She pulled up her hood over her forehead and stuck up her two fingers as a parting gesture. "Arsehole." She muttered and turned her back on the cars, heading inside the deserted corridors of the newly abandoned Eden Colony.

* * *

Miss S


End file.
